


the shine of your eyes at dusk

by crowcinthus



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Drabble, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I'm Bad At Tagging, Implied Relationships, Light Angst, M/M, Mentions of Kirigiri Kyoko, New Dangan Ronpa V3 Spoilers, Nihilism, Out of Character, Pre-Game Akamatsu Kaede, Pre-Game Amami Rantaro, Pre-Game Harukawa Maki, Pre-Game Oma Kokichi, Pre-Game Personalities (New Dangan Ronpa V3), Pre-Game Saihara Shuichi, Pre-Game Saiouma, Prophetic Dreams, Slightly Out Of Character, Stargazing, Summer, Yearning, hints towards physical abuse, mentions of smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:48:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27860098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crowcinthus/pseuds/crowcinthus
Summary: “Have you ever had a prophetic dream?”Two teenagers sat on the edge of a balcony, seemingly finding a masochistic thrill in the risk that came with their legs squeezed through the metal bars of the balcony, ankles dangling and swaying every so often. The conversation had eventually slowed when the amethyst-haired boy leaned over slightly and asked a question to his companion, still facing forward and as stoic as ever.
Relationships: Oma Kokichi/Saihara Shuichi
Comments: 5
Kudos: 49





	the shine of your eyes at dusk

**Author's Note:**

> just a lil pre-game saiouma i wrote because i am Yearning And Gay

“Have you ever had a prophetic dream?”

The summer haze of July seared strongly, leaving nothing in its trail. Two teenagers sat on the edge of a balcony, seemingly finding a masochistic thrill in the risk that came with their legs squeezed through the metal bars of the balcony, ankles dangling and swaying every so often. With the piercing gaze of the setting sun beating down upon them, they had set up a fan behind them, the gentle whirring soothing them.

They exchanged anecdotes that the other already knew, told jokes that ranged from generic to morbid, and raved about a new season of their favorite show. The conversation had eventually slowed when the amethyst-haired boy leaned over slightly and asked a question to his companion, still facing forward and as stoic as ever. 

“W-what?” Shuichi turned his head to face the other, a bewildered expression covering his face. Kokichi just frowned, his eyes stuck to the horizon obscured by large apartment buildings, behind them a blazing sunset pierced the sky, painting it blood red.

“Like a dream that tells the future. Something like that I think?”

Shuichi furrowed his brow as if trying to remember something. He tugged on his bangs and blinked. “Maybe, I’ve never really believed in stuff like dreams predicting the future…”

“Huh,” Kokichi’s confusion blurred into amusement as he chuckled slightly, gripping the metal bars of the balcony tighter and closing his eyes. His laughter rang like small bells and echoed quietly, remnants of his lilting disposition ringing out even after he quieted.

“What’s so funny?”

“It just makes sense that someone like you wouldn’t believe in that stuff I guess,”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Shuichi pulled off his hat that he had kept on despite the heat, running a hand through his hair, messing it up slightly to match his partner.

“Someone practical, passionate, loving. That’s someone like you to me.” The partner counted off on his fingers, moving a hand to his neck, prodding a tender bruise to punish himself. He faked a somber smile and turned to the other boy. 

“Well, your standards are surprisingly low,”

“Ah forgive me, I forgot to mention that they have to be a massive Kirigiri stan!” 

“Very funny,” the boy’s depthless dull yellow eyes drifted to the other and then to his neck, frowning at the newly formed bruise. He hesitantly reached his hand out, resting it on the smaller hand of the other boy. “Are you sure you don’t want me to bandage it?” 

“You always ask and I always give you the same answer? Why do you keep asking; I’m fine,” he says, brushing off Shuichi’s hand. 

“I always ask because I care about you,” Shuichi said firmly, his smile a different type of warm than the unbearable heat of summer, caring and comforting against the harsh world, but still harsh in a deceptive way. A lie agreed upon by both parties.

The outside door slid open to a brash blonde girl interrupting the intemperate tryst between the two boys. She let out a puff from a cigarette before speaking. “New episode’s airing, dipshits. The others are in the living room watching it right now, bets on Amami being the killer.” 

“Thanks Akamatsu, we’ll be in soon,” Shuichi said, his eyes returning to his pendant feet. He reached behind him for his hat, putting it on and gingerly standing up. He picked up his discarded jacket and shrugged it back on, holding it out for Kokichi. 

He simply blinked and looked back down, shaking his head lightly. They exchanged a wordless goodbye as the navy-haired boy slid open the door hesitantly.

“I’ll tell you about the trial results tomorrow if you want. You know how they get during trial episodes…”

“Yeah, that’d be good. Have a good time for me, ‘kay?”

He nodded, closing the sliding door and sitting down on the floor of a crowded apartment filled with teenagers speaking avidly of gruesome topics like regular lunch table gossip, the room smelling of smoke and alcohol. 

A girl with long, dark pigtails sat down next to the boy and leaned over to him, a sadistic smirk coating her face. “Shirogane’s always a mystery during the trials, huh? Shame that this season doesn’t have a detective… Always liked them in the older seasons.” 

Shuichi smiled widely, nodding. “I’m a huge fan of Kirigiri! I watched the first season in like middle school and instantly fell in love with Danganronpa, to be honest. So I guess I’ve always liked the older stuff.”

“Same!” The girl smiled, turning to fish for something in her bag. She pulled out a lanyard holding a large badge. She held it up proudly, as he looked over it. 

“Oh! Did you get it signed by Kirigiri?” She nodded eagerly. “That’s amazing!” She put the lanyard back in her bag and held out a hand, smiling genuinely this time. 

“Harukawa Maki, you might’ve seen me around here before but I usually watch at home to avoid coming back wasted.” 

The boy shook it, smiling. “Saihara Shuichi.”

.

The rest of the trial went on as it usually did, generic theatrics included. The fact that it wasn’t anything new didn’t stop the group from getting excited over the results. After the final vote, a girl with dark green hair went around collecting money presumably from previous bets. She stuck out a manicured hand, smiling smugly. “Didja make a bet?”

Shuichi shook his head and turned back to the television, anticipating the execution. His gaze was broken by the sound of the sliding door opening. The Kokichi walked in from the balcony, his pasty skin combined with the velvety blue light of the television making him look phantasmic. 

He walked over to Shuichi and leaned down slightly. “I’m gonna head out now,” he whispered. Before he turned away to leave, Shuichi tugged lightly on his jacket sleeve. 

“Stay safe, okay?”

“You know me; I can’t make any promises.”

An 8-bit tune sounded from the TV to signal that the execution was about to start, drawing Shuichi’s attention away from the other boy. 

“Damn...Kinda makes sense that the Ultimate Crocheter wouldn’t survive but that doesn’t make it hurt any less,” Maki muttered, the voyeuristic grin on her face contradicting her words. 

The screen became smothered with hot pink right after a particularly gory shot of the blackened’s body, marking the end of the episode. The feeling of despair that his favorite character had died had just set in. 

And he loved it.

-

The temperature was much more tolerable than the previous day with a nice breeze to top it all off. The sky was cloudless, stretching across the horizon only to get speared by tall office buildings and planes. Shuichi and Kokichi sat on the roof of the latter’s school building while the former brought popsicles. 

It felt like a bad idea type of day, so Shuichi proposed something.

“What if we applied to be on Danganronpa together?”

Kokichi stopped licking his popsicle for a second to process what the other had said.

“Never took you for an arrogant guy, Saihara.”

“Just hear me out,” he avowed, eyes filled with an exuberant sheen that Kokichi had rarely seen on him. “We submit our applications, you become the quiet but cunning mastermind, and I become your unwitting assistant, helping carry out the events of the game without knowing it, falling deep into despair when I find out but rise up just in time to proclaim that hope will always win in the end!” 

“Huh. Personally, I think you’d be a good protagonist. You have the looks for it at least.” Kokichi mumbled, lost in a foggy daze, imagining the rush of being in the killing game. “And I don’t think I’d be a good mastermind… I’m always fucking up easy things that I shouldn’t, and I’m not intimidating enough,”

“Well, you might be more intimidating with a cape!” Shuichi said, half-joking.

“A cape...” Kokichi bit his popsicle, the artificial grape flavor tinting his tongue purple as he smiled to himself. “The minimum application age is like eighteen, right?”

“Yeah, but you can always lie on those things.” he stretched his arms, holding the popsicle in his mouth. Shuichi looked up, the sun now held midway in the sky like a child’s plaything. “So...do you wanna do it?”

Kokichi smiled grimly. “Sure, have nothing left to lose besides you.”

.

The sun had dipped below the burning line of the horizon as dusk settled, shrouding the two boys in murky moonlight and the orange glow of the streetlamps. They both sat on the curb outside of Kokichi’s house, the air heavy despite the silence.

“I submitted my application,” Kokichi mumbled to break the tension. He hugged his legs, pulling them closer to him as he braced for a response.

“Really? What did you put for your reason to be on the show? I need ideas for mine, to be honest.” Shuichi chuckled, his hands scraped and aching from rubbing them against the cement of the curb. He took off his hat gingerly, setting it down beside him. 

“My reason was the fact that I have no one left who cares about me. Mom left, Dad’s a shitbag, all I have is you. So if I’m gonna go out, I’m gonna go out with a bang.” Kokichi reached a hand up towards the sky, admiring the stars in between the gaps of his fingers. “What about you? Did hearing my sob story give you any ideas?”

Shuichi grinned, reaching a hand up as well to clasp the other boy’s. “I want to amaze people. Carry out extravagant murder plans to entertain the audience, make them feel the same joy I do watching the show. If that means I die, so be it. So, let’s both go out with a bang.”

.

“I thought I told you that you shouldn’t smoke, it’s not healthy” Shuichi frowned. He crossed his arms, his uniform jacket resting on his shoulders. 

It had started to cool down as July faded into August, and both the boys had eventually gotten letters notifying them that they were to participate in the 53rd season of Danganronpa. Both had been ecstatic and buzzed eagerly, waiting for the date when they would finally be swept away to the location where Danganronpa was filmed, kept secret from the public.

A few others Shuichi knew had gotten letters as well, Akamatsu, Harukawa from the watch night several weeks ago, and a few others from the regular watch parties. Rumor had it that Amami was also coming back for the new season which had made Shuichi giddy when he first found out.

“I just like the smell, anyways I’m not going to live too long if I’m going to be in Danganronpa,” Kokichi smirked, lightly exhaling and letting out a puff of smoke. He sighed and smiled, laid out on Shuichi’s bed, Shuichi sitting comfortably on an armchair.

“But still…that’s oddly nihilistic for you,” Kokichi simply nodded, sitting up from the bed and putting the cigarette out on the windowsill. He laid back down, covering his face with his hands. “I was wondering about something.” Shuichi mused from the chair. He peeked at Shuichi through the gaps between his fingers, admiring his yellow eyes and uncloaked navy hair.

“Shoot,”

“Why do you always say ‘all you have left is me’?” 

He giggled. “Because it’s true. Why lie about something so obvious?” Kokichi leapt up from the bed, sitting on Shuichi’s lap and holding his face in his hands. He smirked, planting a kiss on the other boy’s nose.

“O-Ouma—”

“Can you make me a promise?” Kokichi asked, withdrawing his hands from the other boy’s cheeks. His legs were thrown over Shuichi’s thighs, playfully swinging back and forth.

“Yes,” Shuichi breathed.

“Promise me you won’t be boring in the killing game. ‘Kay?”

“I promise,”

.

They stood together inside a crowded train, voices clashing together in a cacophony, the tittering of the train along the tracks matching the rhythm of Shuichi’s heartbeat. His breath was shallow and unsteady, shaking with ambivalence. Kokichi’s hands trembled as he grasped a pole for support.

It was a warm day in Autumn, the previous blazing heat not having waned quite yet. A few leaves peppered the ground and danced whenever the wind picked up or another train passed by. 

Filming for the 53rd season of Danganronpa was about to start and most if not all of the train was buzzing with anticipation for it, except two of its passengers.

The train eventually stopped and both the boys left in a sea of other passengers, dreading what was to come. They stood on the platform, not making any attempt at conversation, simply waiting. A few other teenagers gathered at the same spot, the silence heavy, and a hairsbreadth away from breaking and exploding, expelling vitriol and venom-filled words. But all the teenagers were a junkie for that feeling and so none dare spoke a word, each cherishing the adrenaline-charged tension.

They were to be picked up by a representative of Danganronpa and taken to the filming location and a few had come too early, giddy on the idea of becoming their idols. Shuichi and Kokichi stood nervously, their pinkies linked to simulate some form of comfort before their gruesome contract would be fulfilled. 

A woman in a suit descended from an escalator, a briefcase imprinted with the iconic eye logo of the show in her hand. A few people noticeably sparked up with excitement, mumbling amongst themselves. 

“Well, shall we get going then?”

.

“Have you ever had a prophetic dream?”

The liar smiled wryly, laid down in the courtyard under the glassy dome of the Academy, the artificial dusk had settled, painting the two in a hazy purple. The detective furrowed his brow, confused at the question.

The boy cloaked in torn white chortled dimly, desperately trying to claw for his old life, for some fragment of it. He tilted his head over to look at the passive detective, smiling wistfully and vacantly to himself.

“Never mind,”


End file.
